Invader Invaded
by Niccolo Dante de Remas
Summary: The Invaders are numbered among the most tenacious and stubborn of the Space Marines, but still recovering from their great victory over the Eldar Craftworld Idharae the Invaders' homeworld of Ogrys come under threat from a force hell-bent on revenge.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Ithar watched as the sun set over distant mountains, tears welling in his eyes as it conjured up memories. Memories of better times, of places long gone and friends long passed.

He hated himself for it. He was Asartes, stronger than this petty emotion called sorrow. Yet as much as Ithar tried he could not forget. As much as he tried to lose himself in his new existence as a mercenary he could not forget the glory of the past and mourn its loss.. His life as an Invader was over and he weeped for that.

The sun setting over the distant mountains reminded him too much of home, it's stark resemblance surely a work of the cursed powers that be who constantly tormented him. He had been too weak and his brothers had paid the price for his failure. So it was that Ithar had become a mercenary, the shame of returning to the Chapter simply too much for him to bear. And now there would be no such reunions, Ithar and his errant squad now classified as renegades and traitors, no longer allowed to call themselves Invaders.

That sat fine with Ithar who felt he was not fit to bear such a title. The Invaders were honourable servants if the Emperor while Ithar had no honour and had ultimately failed his Master to the point where he was beyond any measure of redemption.

Had Salem Ithar had any honour he would have taken the death-oath so that his last days were steeped in a small amount of glory. But he had even failed at that and the man who was left was one who despised himself for his lack of conviction.

He wished greatly that the Invaders would make some attempt to hunt him down, to destroy the stain he left upon the Chapter's history. But the Eldar attack on their homeworld had devastated the already battered Invaders to the point where their very survival was at stake. Yet another thing for Ithar to hate himself for, for when Ithar and his squad met their end their gene-seed would rot with the rest of them, rather than go towards creating more Invaders.  
Even in death he would be a disappointment to his Chapter.

Sergeant Salem Ithar, ex-Invader wanted nothing more than oblivion. Whether he found it in life or in death he really didn't care.


	2. Chapter I

**Chapter I**

Cleaning his boltgun as the rest of his squad ran through their morning training drills, Ithar smiled as he watched young Zasz bring down his second, Logoti with a brutal elbow to the face.

Zasz was new to Seventh Company but he had proven himself a damn good Astartes in that short time. Close combat drills, target practice, tactical acumen exams, all of his scores were high. Higher than some of Ithar's more experienced warriors.

Logoti got back to his feet and though his face was red with embarrassment he still complimented the younger Invader on his expert move before reminding him that he would not fall for the same trick twice.

He would though, Zasz would simply come up with a new combination as he always did.  
Returning to cleaning his bolter, Ithar was aware of a new presence in the training room and looking towards the entrance he saw Captain Delain striding towards him, inspecting Squad Ithar's training as he went. He must have been impressed or at the least satisfied because he approached Ithar with a smile on his face.

'Well met Sergeant.' Delain said, dipping his head in greeting.

'Captain.' Ithar replied. 'I trust my squad meets your exemplary standards for the Seventh?'  
Delain grinned even wider. 'More than so. Squad Ithar looks to be gunning for the position of premier unit of the Seventh.'

The Captain was sure to say the last part for Ithar's men to hear.

What Delain spoke of complimentary, Ithar knew to be truth, his squad more than proving themselves on Craftworld Idharae against the alien Eldar. It had been Squad Ithar who had held against the Aspect Warrior counter-attack on the Tower of Eternal Vigor and it had been Squad Ithar who were the first to gain a foothold in the Shrine of the Screaming Swords, cutting down wave after wave of screaming warrior-maidens with disciplined bolter fire and swift advances.

Ithar was not an arrogant man but his squad WERE the best and they had damned well proved that on Idharae.

'What brings you here sir?' Ithar asked.

Delain's jovial expression disappeared, the facade dropped and replaced with the serious, severe officer that he truly was.

'Several hours ago we lost contact with two novitiate squads in the wilds near Chalan. They were undergoing standard training rites and there should be no reason for loss of contact with both squads.'

Ithar agreed. The wilds near Chalan were dangerous country certainly, that was why the Scout-Sergeants chose to take their novitiate there for environs training. But twenty scouts led by Veteran-Sergeants should have had no trouble there, the biggest threat being the predators. Though for all their ferocity they were no match for a boltgun.

'Any ideas what could have caused this?' Ithar asked.

Delain shook his head. 'None. That's what's got Lord Pladen concerned.'

Lord Pladen, the Invaders Chapter Master was not known for unnecessary concern. He would only be troubled by a matter if there was something to be troubled about.

'I take it you want us to investigate?' Ithar said eventually.

Delain nodded.

'You and Sergeant Trelbain are to perform an armed recon of the whole area. Sweep it for hostile contacts and find our scouts.'

'That's a lot of ground to cover. We could use a Land Speeder or two to speed up the search.'

'You'll have it. Be ready to deploy within the hour. I'll have a Thunderhawk tasked for your use.'  
Ithar couldn't help but think he was being given an inordinate amount of resources for a simple search op, but with the Chapter vastly understrength every Scout was needed to repopulate the ranks. And if they had indeed perished, as much as the idea seemed ludicrous, their gene-seed needed to be recovered.

'Is that all sir?'

'That's it Sergeant, you dust of in an hour. Bring our lads back.' Delain said before turning and walking from the training chamber.

Squad Ithar lined up, still sweating and in some cases bleeding from their training session.  
'You heard the Captain. Search and Rescue. It seems our lads have got lost and we need to go get them out. Clean yourselves up and get ready for deployment. It's time we stretched our legs.'

His squad all grinned at the levity he introduced but Ithar could tell there was a worried undercurrent. Scouts weren't in the habit of getting lost despite their relative inexperience compared to full battle-brethren, and the fact they were led by Veteran-Sergeants, experienced Invaders with centuries of service made it all the more stranger.

Ithar shared their concern and swore to the Emperor he would find out what was going on out there in the wilds.


	3. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

While the Thubderhawk flew over the treetops Ithar, carrying its payload of Invaders to the drop zone, Ithar checked his boltgun and power axe repeatedly. Both were ready for battle but such was the meticulous nature of the Sergeant he always checked his equipment again and again.

To many of his battle-brothers it was an annoying practice but to Ithar it brought concentration and focus. It allowed him to remove everything but the mission from his mind and give all his attentions over to his service to the Immortal-Emperor.

Every warrior had his ways of preparing. Some mouthed silent oaths, other spoke them aloud while others simply thought of the mission. In Ithar's case he checked his wargear.

'Sergeant Ithar,' a voice spoke over the vox, the Thunderhawk's pilot, Brother Raminal. 'We are close to drop zone and Land Speeder /Trident/ is on station and awaiting orders'

Putting away his wargear, Ithar put on his helm, sealing him inside his armour. 'Understood.' he said to the pilot. 'Trident this is Ithar.'

We hear you, Sergeant.' replied Trident's pilot.

'Take up a patrol above tree level. Keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary and keep your channel open at all times.' Ithar ordered.

He wasn't taking any chances. Something had occurred out here and as much as he wanted to chalk the scouts' disappearance to a bit of bad map reading he knew better. Whatever was going on out here it was up to Ithar to find out. Inwardly he hoped he was able to prove himself in the eyes of Lord Pladen and finally earn the elevation to Seventh Captain when Delain was given command of the Third Company to replace the late Vildan.

He knew he was Delain's choice to succeed him but to have the approval of the Chapter Master was essential and would certainly help Ithar's rise through the ranks.

Presuming nothing but he thought the title Lord Ithar had a ring to it.

'L-Z, spotted, prepare for imminent deployment.' Raminal voxed and the two squads of Invaders released their harnesses and stood to their feet, facing the assault ramp.

Standing beside Sergeant Trelbain, Ithar could see his companion was deep in thought, his helm still hanging from the clasp on his belt.

'What troubles you, brother?' He asked quietly.

Trelbain shook his head, 'Nothing, I am merely wondering what we are going to find.'

'No optimism?' Ithar asked.

'Optimism is a weakness, I prefer to be a realist.' Trelbain stated plainly.

Trelbain certainly wasn't one to get his hopes up, always dour and taciturn. Before the Invaders had attacked Idharae he had said the losses for the Invaders would be numerous, but albeit necessary to exterminate the xenos scum.

Old Dour Trelbain.

'It wouldn't harm you to lighten your mood brother. You might be able to shake your reputation as a melancholic bastard.' Ithar chuckled.

Taking his helm and securing it to his gorget Trelbain grunted in amusement.

'That's an optimistic assumption, Ithar.'

Ithar chuckled. That was the closest thing to a joke he had ever heard Trelbain make.

Feeling the Thunderhawk touch down the assault ramp lowered and both Squads ran down the ramp and into the clearing bolters raised.

Ithar scanned the treeline for contacts his genhanced eyes coupled with his helm's auto-senses allowing nothing to escape his sight. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary he ordered his squad to call out anything he might have missed as unlikely as it might be.

Nothing.

'Brother Raminal, take the Thunderhawk back up and provide high overwatch. We'll call you if needed.' Ithar voxed, looking up at the Thunderhawk's canopy.

'Aye, sergeant.' Raminal replied, retracting the assault ramp before taking his craft skyward leaving the twenty Invaders in the clearing.

'Spread out and maintain vox contact at all times. Call in any contacts and if it's not one of ours then shoot to kill.' Ithar ordered and he enjoyed the thought of nineteen of his fellow Invaders following his command.

Splitting off into twos the Invaders began their hunt through the wilderness, heavy ceramite boots falling upon leaves and branches and crushing them underfoot.

Zasz and Logoti were one such pair, both treading carefully and never taking their eyes off of their surroundings. For Zasz it had been so long that he had endured training here, less than a decade ago now. He had excelled and Sergeant Freid had recommended him for promotion to Battle-Brother soon after.

Logoti could see Zasz recognised the terrain and trod it confidently but it had been a while since he had been a novitiate and while he remembered training here once it was still unfamiliar to him.

It was after fifteen minutes and thirty-nine seconds that they encountered one of the scouts.

He lay against a tree, his green carapace armour covered in blood, the fatigues beneath dark with bloodstains to make their original colour unrecognisable.

'Zasz here. We've found a Scout, deceased.' kneeling before the scouts corpse he saw the squad markings on his armour. 'markings make him to be one of Squad Memas.'

'Understood.' Ithar replied. Can you determine cause of death?'

Logoti watched as Zasz inspected the Scout and looking at the wounds he suddenly felt a wave of disgust rise up from his stomach.

'Shuriken wounds.' he spat. Utterly reviling the thought of Eldar setting foot on his homeworld.  
Trelbain replied first. 'We've just found the same. Three scouts from Squad Evari. Chainsword wounds are consistent with Striking Scorpion aspect warriors.'

'Keep a damn eye out. If they're looking for revenge for Idharae then they've got another thing coming!' snarled Ithar.

Zasz and Logoti looked at each other with a sense of grim foreboding. If the Eldar were here then there was only one thing they would be seeking and that was the total destruction of their Chapter and for such a task they would have come in force.

But their mission was to find the scouts and regardless of how many aliens were lurking out in the wilds the Invaders would not take a backwards step. Even if it meant their deaths.

Trelbain looked over the corpses and shook his head at the loss of potential. The Chapter needed more warriors and it needed them now and if indeed his expectations held true then the loss of two full scout squads would be a serious blow to the Invaders' recovery.

There were no progenoid glands to recover either, the majority of the scouts were recent inductees and their gene-seed had yet to mature fully for extraction. It was a serious blow indeed and Trelbain wondered if the Eldar had slain the scouts knowing full well of that fact.

He wouldn't have put it past them, the Eldar were a cunning race and spiteful too. Oftentimes they preached to work for order and balance but as history so often showed the friendship of an Eldar always came with the promise of a knife to the back later. They were no better than any other alien race, only they pretended to be.

Gesturing to Derezi to continue onward the Invader hefted his Heavy Bolter and began to walk deeper into the wilds, his finger curled firmly around the heavy bolter's trigger.

It was sometime before they encountered another scout corpse, this one strung against a tree with a Eldar rune carved into his carapace armour.

From the war on Idharae, Trelbain recognised it as the Rune of Vengeance.

'And they call us savages.' Derezi cursed.

Trelbain agreed, though the body had not been mutilated it was still a grave dishonour to use the corpse of a slain enemy in such a fashion. This was easily recognisable as the work of Aspect Warriors, those Eldar dedicated to worship of their Bloody-Handed God who were not known for their subtlety or civility to their foes when their blood was up.

'We've found another,' voxed Derezi. 'One of Evari's lads.'

'Confirmed. Any signs of Sergeant Evari himself?' Ithar replied.

'None.' Trelbain muttered as he looked past the tree to a clearing in the forest.

Several scouts lay in the clearing, the majority looking to have fallen while fighting back to back. There were no signs of Eldar dead though Trelbain assumed that the Eldar would take care of their own.

Derezi saw them too and began to walk towards the clearing, heavy bolter sweeping left and right. This was a perfect ambush spot and the dead scouts the perfect bait.

'Wait Derezi.' Trelbain ordered and the Invader stopped in his tracks.

Something wasn't right, the scout tied to the tree and the clearing filled with fallen scouts, it was all to organised, the Eldar were a race known for their theatrics.

Looking out into the clearing Trelbain saw a glint in the opposite treeline. Kneeling and concealed by a camoeline cloak, with a long rifle aimed in their direction was an Eldar warrior, one of their Rangers.

'Contact across the clearing!' Trelbain cried and instantly Derezi opened fire in the Ranger's direction, his weapon roaring on full-auto. Raising his boltgun Trelbain never got a chance to pull the trigger, a single shot piercing his right eye lens and on into his brain.


	4. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

'Contact, across the clearing!' Trelbain's cry came over the vox, followed by the furious report of a heavy bolter followed shortly after by a single shot from a non-Astartes weapon.

Ithar watched as the status rune for Trelbain went dark on his optical display.

'Sergeant Trelbain is down,' Derezi roared as the sound of more weaponfire could be heard over the channel. 'Multiple contacts, heavy ordnance! Throne they're here in force.'

Already Ithar was running, Brother Trenlayne beside him as they headed for Derezi's position.  
'All Invaders move to assist Derezi, we have contact, maximum prejudice!' status runes blinked green to show acknowledgement.

Running swiftly the Invaders soon arrived at the clearing despite the distance involved and joining their fire with that of Derezi they responded to the Eldar barrage with great fury.

The warriors of Squad Trelbain gave voice to their grief at the loss of their Sergeant with a storm of bolter fire that would make even crazed berserkers wither before it. As more Invaders arrived they exchange only grew more heated as what had been intended as an ambush turned into an all-out firefight.

Ithar desperately wanted to cross the gap and get to grips with the enemy, knowing full well that the Invaders would have the clear advantage in close quarters, but in the open his warriors would stand no chance against such heavy fire and there was no time to circle around. A more direct solution was required.

'Land Speeder _Trident_. What's your position?' he called into the vox.

'Thirty seconds out, we're approaching from the west behind your position.' the pilot answered back.

'Acknowledged. The Eldar are on the eastern side of the clearing. Provide fire support for our advance. I plan on gutting these bastards up close and personal.' said Ithar.

'Understood, we'll give you everything we've got, Sergeant.'

Waiting eagerly for _Trident_ to arrive Ithar ordered his warriors to prepare to advance. Even with _Trident_ raining down fire it would still be an arduous attack. The enemy were entrenched and would have the advantage of cover as well as numbers. But Ithar would not tolerate the Eldar's presence on Ogrys any longer; they would be made to regret coming here and slaughtering the scouts, killing Trelbain and attempting whatever it was they were plotting.

Several beams of light flashed out of the treeline hitting the Invaders' position. Trees were blown wholly in two and the Astartes were covered in sap and splinters. Looking out Ithar saw the Eldar had brought up several of their hovering weapons platforms and more Eldar were amassing while more began to widen the front.

Two more Invaders went down as a light-beam ripped through them, all but annihilating them from the waist up.

'_Trident_ we need support now!' roared Ithar, firing his bolter on full-auto.

Moments later _Trident _arrived in the clearing.

Twin-linked assault cannons underslung beneath the nose spooled and unleashed a hellish barrage of shells while the gunner fired bursts from his meltagun, slagging weapons platforms and sending Eldar warriors scurrying in every direction.

Ithar punched the sky. 'About damn time.' he voxed.

'My apologies, Sergeant.' the pilot replied. 'we're prepared to make up for our-' the sentence was never finished.

A weapons platform sporting a snub-nosed cannon fired a black beam of energy that struck the Land Speeder in belly and in a spectacular display of physics it was ripped apart by a spatial distortion, the vehicle all but disintegrating. A cry went up from the Eldar positions, a keening wail that could only mean one thing and Ithar gritted his teeth as his helm struggled to compensate for the trademark scream of the Howling Banshees.

Charging out towards the Invaders two dozen of the Aspect Warriors bared their swords and the Astartes fired furiously in a vain attempt to halt their maddened dash. Lithe and acrobatic even by Eldar standards, the Banshee's dodged and weaved through the bolter fire with an ease that made a mockery of the Invaders' marksmanship.

Even so many fell before they reached their prey, blown apart by mass-reactive shells but more than half closed in on the Space Marines and screamed a final cry before leaping in amongst them.

Ithar drew his power axe and hacked down a warrior-maiden as she flew through the air towards him while his battle-brothers drew combat knives as the Banshee's hit home. Two Invaders went down almost instantly, cut apart by wraithbone swords and another fell soon after as a sniper's shot took him in the neck causing him to fall to one knee where he was decapitated.

Fighting back the Invaders were at a clear disadvantage, their knives no match for swords but the Emperor's finest were trained in all manners of combat and engineered to be pure killing machines and so the Eldar were punished well for their impudence. Zasz and Logoti working as a pair fought several of the Banshees' and Derezi had taken up Trelbain's chainsword from its sheath, laying into them with fury fuelled by grief over his fallen Sergeant.

Cutting down another Eldar-bitch Ithar was almost killed by a spear thrust to his abdomen as an Exarch, one of those Aspect Warriors wholly devoted to the Bloody-Handed God came at him. Her spear was a spinning instrument of destruction and it sang as it cut the air. One of Trelbain's squad tried to approach her from behind but the Exarch merely spun around and took his head with one graceful move before returning to her assault on Ithar.

Remembering the battle for the Shrine of Screaming Swords, Ithar dodged every attack, his Astartes physiology allowing him to keep up with her lighting fast reflexes. To many the warriors of the Space Marines appeared bulky and ponderous but that was a common misconception. The Emperor had designed the Astartes to match all foes.

Sparks flew as powered blades clashed and the Exarch screeched and screamed with every strike, trying to use her helm loud-speakers to disorientate Ithar with head-splitting cries. Thankfully apart from a minor headache he was largely unaffected and as she swung her spear down in a glittering arc he grabbed hold of the haft, stopping it dead.

Bringing his axe down, the Exarch relinquished her spear and drew a pair of short swords before charging back in. Ithar knocked away a sweeping blade with his axe and then spitted her on the spear he held in his other hand, grinning beneath his helm at the poetic nature of her death.

Before the Exarch could scream one more time he brought his axe down with all his might and split her skull open.

The few Banshees remaining howled at the death of their leader, their assault faltering and they were swiftly dispatched by the vengeful Invaders.

'On the flanks! Contact!' shouted Brother Tomasz.

Looking to the flanks Ithar saw Eldar warriors flitting between the trees, firing into the Invaders. Flashes of light told of the arrival of Warp Spider aspect warriors who leapt from tree to tree and rained fire down on the Invaders' heads. Mono-filament wire slicing through the air.

Ithar brought up his bolter again. 'Return fire!'

All around their position shuriken fire slashed through the air and every Invader fought with multiple wounds, their armour penetrated by the razor disks in multiple places.

'Sergeant Ithar.' Delain's voice came in over the vox. 'Give me a report.'

'Heavy contact. Both scouts squads are lost, Land Speeder _Trident _is down and we've lost half our number along with Sergeant Trelbain. Requesting heavy support from the Keep.'

As he awaited Delain's reply he saw several Dark Reaper warriors setting up a firing position and ordered Derezi and Brother Yneal to turn their heavy bolters on them.

'Request denied. Get your men out of there and extract back to the Keep.' came Delain's calm reply moments later.

Ithar snarled. 'Retreat? Sir with all due respect I'm not giving those alien bastards a single yard of ground.'

'Ithar I am ordering you to withdraw now! The order comes with Lord Pladen's personal approval. We'll get them back Salem and this war has only just begun.' Delain's voice was filled with menace though Ithar could not be sure whether the Eldar invasion or his reluctance to withdraw was the cause.

Logoti knelt down beside him, bolter hammering away. 'Sir we can't hold here. We'll be overrun in moments!'

Ithar wanted to scream in frustration. He despised the thought of giving the xenos any ground on his beloved Ogrys but looking around he saw the truth in Logoti's words. The Eldar had the numbers and had them all but surrounded. In mere moments it would be over and they would have the ground anyway just with more Invader blood soaked into the soil.

'Brother Raminal. We need immediate evac to the Keep. Be warned the landing-area is hot!' Ithar voxed.

'Understood coming in now. E.T.A one minute. Watch the skies, Sergeant.'

It was the longest minute Ithar had ever experienced.

The Eldar were closing in fast now. Everywhere the Invader looked he saw more aliens charging in from the surrounding woodland and despite horrific casualties for the xenos they kept on coming, determined and fearless. Twice more the Invaders repulsed close assaults, though not without losses and by the time Raminal's Thunderhawk came down in the clearing, all guns blazing there were only seven Invaders left.

The assault ramp deployed and the Invaders grabbed as many of their fallen as they could carry, the gene-seed valuable to the Chapter's future and made a bee-line for the Thunderhawk. Its green armour was soon scarred and pitted by Eldar fire but the guns continued to roar out in reply. The dorsal mounted battlecannon boomed and sections of woodland disappeared in high-explosive fireballs, killing many Eldar.

Clambering aboard the second the last Invader was up the ramp Raminal pulled the Thunderhawk into a steep climb away from the clearing, headed skyward.

The sound of fire punching against the hull was drowned out by the whine of the engines and soon the Thunderhawk was rocketing away at full speed from the Chalan Wilds. Sitting down into one of the many free seats, Ithar removed his helm and allowed it to fall to the floor with a clang. Running his armoured hand over his shaven head he growled before punching the fuselage, leaving a deep imprint.

The first battle of Ogrys had gone to the Eldar.


	5. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV**

The second the Thunderhawk touched down in the hanger, Ithar disembarked and headed for the central Strategium in the heart of the Keep. When he arrived he found Captain Delain stood before a tactical display table, the overview of the Chalan Wilds. Stood beside him in a suit of relic Terminator armour was Lord Pladen, the Invaders' Chapter Master looked deep in thought, his cold grey eyes focused on the display.

Delain looked up as Ithar approached. His expression grave. 'Make your report.'

'My report! What do I need to report? That the Eldar think us cowards, that they believe us weak-willed or that they now think we'll give up our homeworld without a struggle?' Ithar said through clenched teeth.

Lord Pladen and Delain both looked at him with controlled anger in their eyes and Ithar shrunk back ever so slightly, knowing he'd overstepped the line.

'Remember who it is you talk to.' Pladen said with a voice like rolling thunder.

Ithar hung his head. 'I beg your forgiveness my Lord. Today has not been an easy one.'

'Don't we know it Salem?' Delain replied sourly. 'Too many Invaders lost their lives today and the loss of Sergeant Trelbain was a hard blow for the Seventh, especially at a time like this.'

Ithar thought about Trelbain for a moment. He and the old dour bastard had never really been anything like friends but they had been firm battle-brothers and comrades-in-arms. Ithar realised he would actually miss him and if there was time he would ask to be the one to light his candle of remembrance in the Reclusiam.

'Now.' Pladen said, pulling up a three-dimensional image of the Wilds. 'Tell us what you can about the size and disposition of the enemy force.'

Ithar told them all he could, the numbers he had seen, the equipment they had brought with them and whatever else he thought of note. He told of the Aspect Warriors he had seen and the rune of vengeance that Derezi and Trelbain had found on the scout's armour. It all made for grim telling and both Delain and Pladen shared sideways glances several times. When Ithar's account finally finished both officers remained silent.

Pladen was the first to break the silence. 'Captain, recall all forces to the Keep. Everyone. Set us to full alert status and warn Fleet Admiral Tremoni that the Eldar are on the surface which means they must have ships out there somewhere.'

'It will be done my lord.' Delain said before turning to issue orders to the many serfs and servitor menials that staffed the Strategium.

'As for you Sergeant.' said Pladen. 'Your squad is grossly understrength. Take in the remnants of Squad Trelbain and make up the rest from those of Tenth Company.'

Ithar scowled at the thought of taking in newly-raised Brothers into his squad. They would be new to warfare as a line Battle-Brother; their heads would be filled with aspirations of glory and legend, not rooted in the routine and discipline he demanded of his warriors.

But he had no choice but to obey Pladen's command.

'Yes my lord. I shall see to it at once.'

'See that you do.' Pladen warned. 'For we are now at war on home soil. And we're not giving it up without one hell of a fight.'

* * *

Sitting in his pavilion Autarch Aurellin watched as his War Council approached him, their armour still dirty from the battle with the Invaders. He was sad to see Exarch Nariss was not among them, the Howling Banshee having been killed in the skirmish. For one lost to the Path of the Warrior she had seemed so calm and collected in council, tempered by centuries of conflict and war no doubt.

'A moment for our fallen sister. May she live forevermore in the Infinity Circuit of our beloved Craftworld.' he intoned.

The Exarch's bowed their heads.

'Though once lost to Khaine, she is now liberated from the path, free to join the spirits of Altaioc.'

It was a simple prayer. All within the pavilion were warriors and they had no want to spend hours in coordinated mourning, reciting the various litanies and incantations. Leave that to those on the Path of Mourning and Sorrow.

'The Mon-Keigh now know we are here.' said Aedronthar of the Dire Avengers. 'We must assembled the warhost and strike for their lair.'

The figure beside him nodded, his skull mask showing a rictus grin. 'I am in agreement. We have been subtle long enough. Call forth Khaine's wrath and give them death.' stated Farashe of the Dark Reapers.

'And yet.' interjected Raenomir of the Swooping Hawks. 'The Mon-Keigh are heavily entrenched. Their Keep is well defended and their warriors will fight all the harder to defend their homeworld.'

Farashe looked at the Swooping Hawk Exarch. 'So you would have us do nothing?'

'No. But we cannot commit to a siege. We must draw them out into battle where we stand on even ground and where we can establish the advantage.'

'The Avatar will be with us.' Aedronthar said plainly. 'Their walls will not stand against it.'

'We must attack their keep. Destroy it and desecrate it like they did to Idharae.' spoke another of the Exarch's this one of the Warp Spider's shrine. Her armour displaying the runes of the lost Craftworld.

'Maene. Is right.' said Telondar, acting representative of the Banshees' 'They must feel the loss of the refugees of Idharae. Honour demands it.'

Maene was perhaps the most bloodthirsty of them, she would not rest until the Invaders were destroyed and their homeworld left a corpse-ridden wasteland.

'We are here now. What will you do Autarch? Will you allow the Invaders to live and the vengeance the dead demand go unanswered?' Maene said venomously.

Aurellin raised a hand. 'I know full well why we are here Maene and we shall avenge the fallen of Idharae.'

'Then no more debating!' growled Farashe. 'Order down the host and let us wipe this world clear of the Mon-Keigh!'

Aurellin listened closely to the words of each of his councillors. He saddened to see that Raenomir stood alone, all the others calling for a siege of the Keep. He was the Autarch and ultimately the decision fell to him but it was as much about politics as it was about leading a campaign. He could not afford to go against the desires of his Exarchs. Without their support he could not function as an Autarch of Altaioc. He would be without warriors to summon in time of war.

But he knew the Swooping Hawk had the right idea. The warhost he had brought with him to Ogrys was large but by no means was it expendable. The Eldar were a dying race and he could not throw lives away needlessly nor did he want to.

'Autarch. The decision rests with you.' Raenomir said at long last.

Aurellin had already decided.

'The Mon-Keigh know the hand of vengeance reaches for them. It is time we closed the grip. We shall call down the host. The wrath of Khaine will be felt here and all Mon-Keigh will know the price of their barbarism.'

The Exarchs all nodded solemnly and departed the pavilion.

All save for Maene.

'You have more to say?' Aurellin asked.

Maene nodded. 'You do not want this. You do not want to attack them I can see it in your eyes.'

The Autarch laughed. 'Really is that what you think?'

Maene said nothing.

'I desire nothing more than to punish the Invaders for the crimes they have committed. But the cost of that punishment may well be too high for Altaioc to pay.'

'There is no price too high when it comes to vengeance.' Maene replied bluntly before turning and walking from the pavilion to rejoin her warriors.

Autarch Aurellin sat alone once again and sighed. 'So says a warrior with nothing left to lose.'


	6. Chapter V

**Chapter V**

Since the order for a war footing had gone up from the Keep, the Invaders fleet had been preparing itself for battle.

_Relentless Invader_ and the _Eternity of Hate_ the Invaders' two battle-barges were soon ready as well as six Strike Cruisers and the Chapter's dedicated Strike Squadrons. Only the Strike Cruiser _Dedicated Wrath_ was unable to serve, still undergoing refit in the wake of the Shelmann Rift Crusade after going toe to toe with a battlecruiser almost twice her size.

Upon the bridge of the _Relentless Invader_ Lord Admiral Tremoni went about establishing patrol routes, requisitioning supplies and preparing his fleet further for a battle he was sure was coming.

It was on the eve of the fifth night since Lord Pladen's call went up the Eldar struck.

Slipping through space undetected thanks to holo-fields and other sensoria fooling apparatus the warfleet of Alaitoc was well within the Ogryios System before the Invaders were aware of their presence.

_Relentless Invader_ was the first vessel to be hit, three Eldar cruisers appearing out of the void and strafing the flagship with multiple starcannon blasts. Voidshield generators blew out with great pyrotechnical displays, hull plating disintegrated and hundreds of crew were killed in a matter of seconds.

A dozen Eldar vessels revealed themselves, engaging in attack runs on the Invaders' fleet, two Strike Cruisers crippled in the opening salvo with a third hit hard. The element of surprise gave the Eldar the momentary advantage and against any other foe it would have perhaps been enough to carry the battle then and there.

Lord Admiral Tremoni was not a man easily flustered however. His Astartes mind swiftly comprehended the situation, analysed possibilities and drew up counter-attack strategies in mere moments and swiftly communicating them to his fleet the Invaders responded.

Despite the horrendous damage she had taken, the _Relentless Invader_ was by no means out of the fight, her guns roaring out defiance and fury at her attackers. One Eldar cruiser was hit amidships by the barrage of cannon fire, ripping it wholly in two while another took damage to one of its solar sails, slowing down its movement.

The Strike Cruiser _Unending Onslaught_ came to the flagship's defence, firing lance batteries at any who tried to come near the bloodied _Invader_. Several wings of Strike Vessels also joined the fray. Backed up by orbital support batteries the defenders of Ogrys punched back hard, the Eldar's coordinated assault falling to shambles like a glass sculpture crushed beneath a hammer.

When the _Eternity of Hate_ was at last able to bring her guns to bare the battle was well and truly over, her bombardment cannons obliterating an Eldar warship with each shot. Realising they had failed to break the Invaders fleet the xenos tried desperately to escape using their much superior speed and manoeuvrability. Chased by the angered Chapter Fleet out of Ogrys' orbit the Eldar seemed frenzied and terrified in their movements.

Tremoni sat in his command throne watching the battle on his hololith display.

The Eldar were routed and his fleet was largely intact, in all it had been an astounding victory and the battle short for one fought in the void. But as he looked at the display closely, watching the movements of the xenos vessels he could not help but think it was _too_ chaotic. The Eldar were not a race prone to panic in a normal sense and their mad withdrawal was unnatural. Yet watching their manoeuvres closely he saw something akin to coordination, as if they _tried_ to panic.

When another two dozen runes appeared on the hololith behind those representing his fleet the Lord Admiral finally realised the Eldars' strategy.

'Bring us about! Order _Eternity of Hate_ to engage at will. Redirect _Sword _and_ Storm_ Squdrons to support.' roared Tremoni, smashing an armoured fist down on the arm of his throne.

Already the new arrivals were attacking and _Unending Onslaught_ bore the brunt of the Eldar's attack, the Strike Cruiser exploding brilliantly as Eldar cannons tore her to shreds. _Eternity of Hate_ moved to avenge her fallen comrade, turning as fast as her bulk allowed. The Eldar used the ship's ponderous nature to their advantage, focusing fire on the massive ship while her guns were still largely unable to fire back.

Even a Battle-Barge of the Adeptus Astartes could not endure such a prolonged horrendous assault and _Eternity of Hate_ was slowly but surely ripped apart. Explosions wracked the hull while the superstructure buckled and collapsed. Plasmafires broke out all over the ship as conduits and relays overloaded and as fires broke out in sensitive areas the crew clamoured to safe their stricken vessel. Many of her guns fell silent but those that could remained firing, the bombardment cannon scoring another kill before it was shorn from the hull by precise laser fire.

It was over in a matter of minutes, a salvo of d-cannon shots opening singularities within the enginarium section. Bulkheads collapsed while the internal structure was ripped apart at the molecular level, and sucked into the disruptions in space time. Techmarine Regosa, the _Eternity of Hate_'s chief of engineering fought desperately to stabilise the reactions within the Warp core as the singularities caused severe reactions that threatened a breach.

When the core went critical and detonated he was killed instantly along with the majority of his servitor thralls and serfs. The rest of the ship died three seconds later, exploding like a supernova. What remained was a shattered hulk that barely resembled the mighty warship it had once been. The two squadrons of strike vessels supporting the Battle-Barge attempted to throw up a screen between the reeling Chapter Fleet and the Alaitoc vessels but the Eldar cut through them with ease, leaving great clouds of debris in their wake.

Lord Admiral Tremoni looked on in shock as the rune representing the _Invader_'s sister ship disappeared and in moments he came to the conclusion that victory was an impossibility now. Outnumbered and now outgunned the Invaders' fleet lived on borrowed time and he knew the Eldar would finish them soon.

'Helm. Make a new heading. Get us out of orbit and to the outer system rally point.'

The serf-overseer of the helm looked back at the Admiral with surprise. 'My lord?'

Tremoni stood up from his throne. 'We cannot win here and I'm not going to allow the fleet to be wiped out for no gain. We must regroup and revise our strategy. We're not abandoning Ogrys or the Chapter. Now obey my command overseer.'

He turned to the Master of Vox. 'Send word to the fleet for withdrawal and then get me a link with the Keep.'

'We've suffered heavy losses my lord. I'm ordering a withdrawal to rally the fleet and prepare for a counter-attack.' Tremoni's voice was dark and filled with loathing. He didn't want to order a retreat Pladen could tell. But the Lord Admiral of the Invaders was a man ruled by the mind not the heart. To many he was cold and dispassionate. Exactly why Pladen considered him the right man for the job, he was

'Acknowledged Cermon. You have done what you can. Promise me that you will bring the Emperor's wrath upon them when you return.' said Pladen, looking to his assembled officers in the Strategium.

'You have my word Lord Pladen.' came Tremoni's static filled reply.

'Then Emperor-speed to you.' Pladen replied.

'And may he guide us all.' the Lord Admiral intoned before the link went dead.

Hanging his head, Pladen at last sighed before looking up at his Chapter Council.

'We are invaded, brothers. Look to your warriors; ready them for the battle of their lives. The coming days will decide the fate of our Chapter. But I promise you all this, we will make the Eldar regret ever setting foot upon Ogrys' soil!'


	7. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI**

The Eldar landings swiftly followed their victory over the Chapter Fleet.

Opening webway portals the Eldar dispatched their teams of Aspect Warriors to the surface, going from the wraithbone decks of their warships to solid ground in moments. The Invaders launched counter-attacks on the landing sites, hoping to bloody the enemy before the main battle was joined.

Several of these sorties were launched, coordinated by Lord Pladen and First Captain Incursa but the numbers the Alaitocii arrayed against the Invaders made any meaningful victory impossible to attain. After three days of fierce fighting the Invaders withdrew reluctantly to the Keep knowing they had not the strength to face the enemy in the open.

It was a hard pill to swallow for a Chapter that prided itself on their strength on the assault and advance. They were Astartes and they would defend with all their vigour if it was called for but the change in tactics chafed with many Battle-Brothers. Ithar in particular detested it and had petitioned Delain several times since the withdrawal to lead more counter-attacks.

Delain's refusals had been polite at first but soon the Captain's patience had worn thin and Ithar had found himself facing censure for questioning the decisions of Chapter Command. He had backed down at that point though his mood had only gotten worse and his squad experienced the brunt of it.

He pushed them hard in training and drills, to the limits of Astartes endurance. Ostensibly it was to ensure the combat efficiency of his warriors who were a mix of his own squad, the remnants of Squad Trelbain and newly raised novices but Zasz and Logoti both could tell the Sergeant was taking out his frustrations more than anything else.

The novices were treated harshly, still unused to their power armour they often were admonished for perceived failings and Zasz in particular felt a growing distaste for Ithar's methods. He said nothing though, keeping his silence lest dissent begin to swell within the Squad. Logoti was not so restrained though as always he addressed Ithar with the respect his rank deserved.

When the Eldar at last arrived on the Caevaris Peninsula the lands where the Keep had been built during the Invaders' founding Ithar's mood turned from bad to worse.

'They tread upon the ground where our Chapter was founded and Lord Pladen does nothing! The Eldar are laughing at us, laughing! They must us think craven cowards to hide behind our walls and wait for death. Each day we stand here is another dishonour heaped upon us!' Ithar had ranted once. It had been a gross disrespect to the Chapter Master, almost heretical and Logoti had been forced to grit his teeth and put it down to Ithar's shame over the defeat in the wilds.

But looking into his Sergeant's eyes he wasn't so sure that Ithar's rants were as uncontrolled as first thought as if he had spent much time on the subject.

Perhaps the attention of a Chaplain was needed to help him address the issues that played on his mind. Logoti had been preparing to discuss the matter with Zasz, both now sharing a bond deeper than that of ordinary battle-brothers, when the Keep's alarms had sounded and all Invaders were to ready themselves for imminent battle.

Ithar seemed overjoyed at the prospect and in truth so were they all, all Invaders feeling the shame of allowing xenos upon Ogrys' soil. Rushing to their position on the northern bastion Squad Ithar looked out over the peninsula and saw at last the size of the host the Alaitocii had brought to face them.

Aspect Warriors of many different temples were assembled beside masses of guardians. Squadrons of grav tanks and jet bikes glided over their heads while combat walker units assembled in the shadows of two Eldar Titans which had arrived from the webway mere seconds ago, their hulls shimmering with eldritch energies.

'By the Throne.' hissed Logoti between his teeth.

The Eldar must truly have been hounding for the Invaders' blood to send such a warhost.

The defences of the Keep were numerous and as befitting a fortress-monastery of an Astartes Chapter it could boast among the most powerful and devastating defences in the Imperium.

But two Phantom-class Titans was a tall order for any bastion to hold back.

At the fore a number of figures in myriad colours of armour along with those in blue and gold robes stood looking at the Keep. Logoti guessed they were the leaders of the warhost, Exarchs and Seers who were both feared and held in the highest regard respectively in Eldar society.

A sudden buzz stirred the air and static made hairs stand on end.

_+Aurellin, Autarch of Alaitoc, Hero of Eiranash-Torhilim, Warrior of the Reaper, Scorpion, Avenger and Dragon, requests the presence of the Astartes Lord under a flag of parley. Know that not a blade shall be drawn or a shot fired lest grave dishonour be brought upon the aggressor and Bloody-Khaine strike them down.+_

The intrusion upon their minds was not malicious or harmful in any way but it still caused outrage among the Invaders. Ithar looked at the Eldar and cursed under his breath, swearing they would pay for that act and the many other things they had done. It was ludicrous anyway for them to request the Chapter Lord's presence. He would never treat with xenos, to do such was blasphemy.

After several minutes the vox crackled into life, Chapter Command's channel overriding the network.

'Be aware, Lord Pladen will be departing shortly to parley with the Eldar. Be on the lookout for signs of treachery on their part and stand ready for immediate action.' Captain Incursa's words served only to enrage Ithar, truly believing now that Lord Pladen had lost his mind.

But saying nothing he merely gritted his teeth.

It would serve the old fool right if the Eldar turned on him.

Momentarily Ithar thought of the loathing for Chapter Command's recent decisions, feeling shame for it, but likewise feeling his outrage was good and correct. As the Chapter Master's Thunderhawk left the Keep, Ithar found himself hoping for some kind of attempt on Pladen's life. At least it would show the rest of the Chapter's officers that the only solution to the invasion of Ogrys was to fight.

The Thunderhawk was coloured the same green as the armour the Invaders wore and as the ramp lowered Aurellin felt the Seers and Warlocks summon their energies, preparing for any sign of betrayal from the humans.

Aurellin sincerely hoped it would not be necessary, in his centuries of warfare he had found some Astartes to have a notion of honour even if they still were barbarians like the rest of their race. They were killing machines fuelled by hatred and anger but sometimes with honour and faith, all of which Aurellin understood.

To be a warrior of the Aspect Shrines one needed to feel anger and hatred, it was what drew one to the Path. Eldar knew what it was to serve and do one's duty but rarely was the Path of the Warrior a choice made by an individual without some darkness within them. After all without negative emotions it was hard to find the War Mask which allowed them to fight and retain their sanity and balance afterward.

Ten warriors in armour of green and silver descended the ramp weapons at the ready though not aimed at anyone in particular. They were followed by a hulking figure in Terminator armour, his hands sheathed by a pair of massive claws. His features were firm and possessed of a certain nobility but were marred by scars that told of centuries of battle and a wealth of experience. Once golden hair had long started to turn silver though his mane was still long and framed his face while cold grey eyes looked out upon the Eldar warhost with disdain.

Aurellin took a step forward his hands close to his weapons though not enough to be perceived as a threat.

'Lord Pladen?' he said in Imperial Gothic.

'I am.' replied the warrior.

'I am Autarch Aurellin of Alaitoc.' he introduced himself graciously.

Pladen seemed unimpressed by the greeting. 'I had already assumed that.'

Aurellin could feel the hostility in Pladen's voice. He had only come here reluctantly.

'You know why we have come.' he said plainly.

Pladen nodded. 'Vengeance.' was all he said.

'Indeed. Alaitoc calls for vengeance against those who slew Idharae and those who called her home.'

'A good motive.' said Pladen.

The honesty of the human took Aurellin aback.

'You do not attempt to plead your case? To defend your actions?'

Pladen grinned. 'I need not plead my case to an alien, Autarch. What my Chapter did was in the name of the Emperor, which exonerates me of any crime you may perceive.'

'The Craftworld had only recently weathered an attack by the Great Devourer. They were of no threat to you or your Emperor.' Aurellin exclaimed. 'Your act was one of fell barbarism.'

'Careful Autarch,' warned Pladen in the Eldar tongue. 'I will not take an insult lightly.'

Aurellin felt his anger rise. 'I have called you here to answer for your crimes, and though no harm will come to you now, know that upon your return to your fortress the judgement of Alaitoc will be delivered swiftly and without mercy.'

'Is this why you called for me? To boast and posture of the impending doom you intend to visit upon us? Such is to be expected of Eldar. Arrogance and overabundant pride.'

'I had hoped that you would see the gravity of your crimes mon-keigh. That perhaps you would show some remorse. I see now however that such was folly and the course of action I've chosen is correct.'

Pladen took a step forward though his claws were still held unpowered by his sides.

'Remorse? We destroyed a nest of xenos whose aggression against the Imperium was well documented. Worlds attacked, ships and convoys destroyed, innocent Imperial subjects slain. Idharae had committed many crimes across the millennia. You talk of vengeance and justice for those fallen? Well that was our judgement upon the crimes of Idharae. Execution!'

Before Aurellin could reply he felt the air displacement and saw the flash of teleportation pack beside him.

'You dare insult the memory of Idharae you human savage! You dare to call your slaughter rightful!' screamed Maene. The Exarch had been left out of Aurellin's entourage, the Autarch fearing such an outburst from her.

The Space Marines raised their weapons and the claws of Lord Pladen flared into life, energy coruscating across the blades. In turn he Seers and Exarchs behind him levelled their weapons and were poised ready for battle.

Aurellin turned to Maene. 'Silence! Your presence was not desired here.'

'They insult my Craftworld. I will not stand idly by while such occurs!' the Exarch growled.

'Keep your dogs, or in this case spiders on a leash Autarch.' said Pladen. 'I long suspected that some Eldar had fled Idharae's destruction. I see now I was right.'

'We did not flee. A warrior never flees!' Maene replied.

'And yet you are here and your comrades lie dead defending their home.' said Pladen his intent to goad Maene clear.

The Exarch raised her death spinners.

'I will kill you where you stand mon-keigh!'

'Maene! You would dishonour us with this act!' Aurellin roared.

An Exarch was a warrior, trapped on the Path of Khaine, doomed to spend the rest of their lives fighting. In truth an Exarch was many Eldar, each successive warrior to don the armour of the Exarch being subsumed into the whole. Maene was merely the first in a long line to don that suit and found her own shrine as Exarch and the body within Maene's armour was not that of the Exarch herself, merely another to become lost on the path and join with the other souls in the suit.

Exarchs were fierce and fuelled by Khaine's rage and wrath, when their anger was up woe betide any in their path for it was the anger of many souls, each one lost to the Path rather than of a mere single Eldar.

Yet even she could not simply ignore Aurellin's words.

Lowering her deathspinners slowly Maene's entire posture told of simmering hatred for the Space Marine in front of her.

'I will be your death, human.' she hissed, venom in every word.

Pladen grinned. 'You can try Eldar.'

Maene looked at Aurellin, her helm's red lenses concealing eyes that were surely filled with ire. Moments later she was gone, teleporting away in another flash of light.

'She is consumed with revenge.' Aurellin said plainly.

'I believe we are done here.' Pladen replied. Turning to leave.

'You will not escape, Astartes. I promise you that fortress will be your tomb.'

Pladen turned to look back at Aurellin, his grey eyes boring deep into the Autarch.

'And I promise you Eldar that you will be sharing it with me.'


End file.
